


Lullaby

by SteelLily



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Phyllis Crane Surrogate Mother to All the Sapphic Ladies, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 06:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16191635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelLily/pseuds/SteelLily
Summary: The trolley full of beer was hurdling toward Lucille at an alarming rate and showed no signs of stopping. Before Valerie Dyer had even consciously made the decision, she found herself between Lucille and the runaway alcohol. Val caught the look of absolute horror on Lucille’s face right before the cart slammed into her. The last thing Val was able to process before passing out was Lucille shouting into the Black Sail for Val’s aunt to telephone for an ambulance.





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cassiopeiasara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiopeiasara/gifts).



The trolley full of beer was hurdling toward Lucille at an alarming rate and showed no signs of stopping. Before Valerie Dyer had even consciously made the decision, she found herself between Lucille and the runaway alcohol. Val caught the look of absolute horror on Lucille’s face right before the cart slammed into her. The last thing Val was able to process before passing out was Lucille shouting into the Black Sail for Val’s aunt to telephone for an ambulance.

Lucille Anderson was not one for needless apprehension. She considered herself to be both grounded in the science of nursing and in her faith in God. If one could not explain to her what she needed to know, the other was there to pick up what remained. As she sat outside the hospital room waiting for word on Val’s condition, Lucille found herself anxiously bouncing between her medical knowledge and prayers for safety and healing. Never had someone put themselves in the way of physical danger to protect her. No one who was not a member of her family, anyway.

When the door to the recovery room opened, Lucille leapt to her feet. Sister Julienne always managed to avail herself of information long before anyone else. She stopped in front of Lucille, “Nurse Dyer is fine, Nurse Anderson. She has a broken leg and a slight concussion. Hospital will keep her overnight just to ensure there are no complications from the head injury. You may see her now if you wish. I’ve been told she should hopefully wake soon. I am certain your presence would speed that along nicely.”

Sister Julienne, Lucille had noticed, always used ten words where three would suffice. It was not comforting to her in the way that Sister Monica Joan could be with her quotations but perhaps that was because Lucille, too, found solace in books. Lucille must have nodded at Sister Julienne because the woman moved out of her line of sight and she heard the door swing closed behind her. Lucille took a steadying breath and made her way into the recovery room. It was empty save Val.

Lucille listened to her footsteps echo on the floor as she made her way across the room to Val’s bedside. A metal chair was next to the bed which she sat on. Lucille reached for Val’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before folding hers on her lap. “Well, Valerie, I don’t like that you’ve gotten yourself injured on my account,” Lucille sighed and stared up at the ceiling, away from Val’s scratched face.

The distant sounds reminded Lucille that they were in a hospital. She glanced back down at Val’s face and felt her heart clench. “When I must pass the time, I sometimes quote my favourite poems to myself. I don’t know if you will find comfort in the words of Keats but I don’t know what else to do,” Lucille cleared her throat, she watched Val’s face as she began, “Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—   
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night   
And watching, with eternal lids apart,   
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,” Lucille brushed a piece of hair from Val’s forehead,   
“The moving waters at their priestlike task   
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,   
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask   
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—   
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,” Lucille gesticulated with her hands to emphasize unchangeable then reached again for Val, this time to cup her cheek,   
“Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,   
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,   
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,   
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,   
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.”

Val shifted in her sleep with a slight grimace on her face. Lucille looked down Val’s body on the bed. Her leg was hoisted up and in a large cast. Lucille could not help but shake her head. “You don’t often think about how badly a thing might go before acting, do you, Nurse Dyer?” she pulled back into herself.

The door behind Lucille open making Lucille turn. The sight of Nurse Phyllis Crane drew a small smile to Lucille’s face. “She’s all right I take it? I heard she jumped in front of a car like a fool,” Phyllis half-laughed.

“The story of Nurse Dyer’s daring has grown it seems. It was a trolley cart filled with alcohol for her aunt’s pub,” Lucille stood as she spoke to allow Phyllis to sit, “Though it was loaded full enough that it may as well have been a small vehicle.”

“Sounds about right for rumors ‘round Poplar,” Phyllis replied with a groan as she lowered herself onto the chair, “We’ve your shift this evening covered so you can stay with her if you like. We’ll address Nurse Dyer’s coverage tomorrow once we’ve a better understanding of her recovery.”

“Thank you, Nurse Crane. I don’t know what she was thinking jumping in front of the cart like that,” Lucille rubbed her arms in self soothing.

Phyllis smirked and shook her head as she stood, she spoke, “What indeed, I can’t imagine.”

Lucille’s eyebrows crinkled at the comment. Phyllis put her hand on Lucille’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze, “I’ll be back before supper to drive you home, Nurse Anderson.”

“Thank you, Nurse Crane,” Lucille replied and retook her chair by the bed.

Lucille spent the afternoon reciting various poems she thought Val might like and speaking with the nurses who came to check on her. There was a growing dread in the pit of Lucille’s stomach at how long it took Val to wake. The nurses assured her that the bang she took to the head was not so severe that she should worry herself overmuch. Around 2pm, Dr. Turner came to check on Nurse Dyer and to bring Lucille a sandwich Shelagh made for her. Lucille thanked him for the food and unwrapped it from the paper while he checked Val. When he finished, he patted Val’s shoulder. 

Dr. Turner turned a soft smile to Lucille, “She seems to be fine. Perhaps her body is just taking the rare opportunity to rest. Our bodies have a way of knowing what we need before our minds sometimes catch up. That said, if she’s not woken up by the time you leave, give me a call.”

Lucille nodded. She finished her sandwich is silence, it was a simple ham sandwich, but she had not realized how hungry she was and it tasted like manna from heaven itself. She laughed at the thought of ham sandwiches dropping on the Jewish people on their way from Egypt. Lucille balled the paper and took it to the trash bin. She rolled her neck to ease the cramp building there. Behind her Val began to stir.

Lucille rushed back to Val’s side. Val grimaced. She tried opening one eye then the other. The light in the room was so bright that it caused searing pain in her head with each try. “So bright,” she mumbled.

Lucille sat carefully on the bed next to her, “I know. I’m sorry. But can you open your eyes long enough for me to see your pupils?”

Val complied as best as she was able. Lucille leaned forward and looked between the blue irises. “They match, you may close them. Now, can you tell me what day it is?”

Val tried licking her lips, her tongue felt clumsy in her mouth. Before she could ask, Lucille placed a cup of water to her lips. “Careful, now,” she spoke as she tilted the cup slightly.

“It’s Monday, delivery day. Oh, that terrible trolley,” Val spoke so quietly Lucille had to lean in to hear her.

Val put her hand on her forehead, “I did not think that through,” the memory of Lucille in the path of the cart drew one of Val’s eyes reluctantly open, “Are you all right?” she took a breath, “It didn’t get you did it?”

“I am without scratch,” Lucille replied and pulled Val’s hand from her forehead and held it between her hands, “It was a foolish thing you did.”

Val laughed, the sound catching midway and becoming a cough instead. Lucille smiled fondly at the scratched face of her hero. “You are coherent enough that you’ve earned some rest,” she replied, still holding Val’s hand.

Val nodded and took a deep breath, “Don’t think that’ll be too difficult,” she squeezed Lucille’s hand weakly, “You don’t need to stay if you don’t want.”

Lucille felt heat rush to her face. She was glad Val’s eyes were closed. “I will be here through supper.”

Val sighed. A small smile remained on her face, “Will you sing for me now?”

Lucille laughed at the mischievous grin Val failed to hide. “If you promise to sleep, I will sing you a lullaby.”

Val sucked her lower lip between her teeth to hide her grin and made a cross over what she hoped was her heart with her free hand. Fondness welled in Lucille like a bubbling brook in the forest. She released Val’s hand. 

Lucille placed the metal chair closer to the bed so she could sit and tangle her fingers together with Val’s, “Bye-a, bye-a me baby, baby wants to sleep sleep, bye-a, bye-a me baby, baby wants to sleep sleep,” Lucille’s voice started softly and she rubbed her thumb across the back of Val’s hand, “Baby, baby hush baby don’t cry, Baby baby oh mama gone a fountain,” as she sang, Lucille’s voice rose and fell like the tide, “Hush baby don’t cry, Your mama gone a fountain, Hush baby don’t cry, Your mama gone a fountain,” Lucille watched Val’s eyelids flutter as sleep took hold, her song finished in a whisper, “Sweetie, water never done, She get it down the fountain, Sweetie, water never done, She get it from the fountain.”

When she finished, Lucille watched Val’s chest slowly rise and fall for a moment before unclasping their hands. She leaned carefully over Val’s face and pressed a light kiss against Val’s forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem is called Bright Star by Keats.
> 
> The lullaby is a Jamaican lullaby. If you had told me when I started this how difficult it would've been to find a Jamaican lullaby I would've laughed at you. This is the link to the video for the lullaby: https://youtu.be/jQbLKLXfrMU
> 
> I transcribed as best I could. The song is called Mama Gone a Fountain. If anyone knows this song, I would be eternally thankful if you could confirm what they are so this can be a correct representation of the song.
> 
> Bye-a bye-a me baby  
> Baby wants to sleep sleep  
> Bye-a bye-a me baby  
> Baby wants to sleep sleep
> 
> Baby baby hush baby don’t cry  
> Baby baby oh mama gone a fountain  
> Hush baby don’t cry  
> Your mama gone a fountain  
> Hush baby don’t cry  
> Your mama gone a fountain  
> Sweetie water never done  
> She get it down the fountain  
> Sweetie water never done  
> She get it from the fountain


End file.
